


Short Skirt and a Long...Jacket

by BlessedAreTheFandoms



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Clothing Kink, Explicit Consent, First Time, Inspired by Fanfiction, Lingerie, M/M, Porn With Plot, Round Robin, Top Julian Bashir, let Garak feel pretty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:27:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26284915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlessedAreTheFandoms/pseuds/BlessedAreTheFandoms
Summary: Taking up the thread of Xenobotanist's "The Teddy (Not Kukalaka)" and directly following sapphose's "What Happens Next," Julian Bashir and Elim Garak realize that taking off the lingerie is at least as good as admiring it while on.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 18
Kudos: 84
Collections: Lingerie: A Garashir Round-Robin





	Short Skirt and a Long...Jacket

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [What Happens Next](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259625) by [sapphose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphose/pseuds/sapphose). 



> Title is from the Cake song "Short Skirt/Long Jacket," which is a ridiculous song but would not stop playing in my head during this.
> 
> Thank you to Xenobotanist and sapphose for the invitation to play in their delightful scene! I hope I did y'all's works justice. I believe cemetrygatess is doing the "morning after," so good luck, my friend; I hope I set you up well.

Julian Bashir wasn’t quite sure how he and Elim Garak had ended up perched in the sill of the viewport overlooking the stars—it probably had something to do with the hoist Garak had performed when Julian had slid the deep red gown off of his brown shoulders and let it pool at his feet, naked as the rest of him. It had been quite the surprise to switch from him mouthing down Garak’s ridges with the scalloped edges of the teddy’s black lace brushing against his lips to being picked up as though he weighed nothing at all. Julian half-wanted to wrap his legs around Garak’s waist and move things along right here, but that teddy required more exploration.

“Nope,” Julian said against Garak’s lips, popping the “p” and earning himself another round of being kissed breathless, “Garak, wait.”

Garak pulled back, concern in his bright blue eyes. “Are you all right?”

Julian trailed a finger down a jaw ridge. “I’m phenomenal, but I did ask you to bring the outfit for a reason and I intend to enjoy it thoroughly.”

The teardrop shapes Julian could see on Garak’s forehead and chest flushed, if possible, even deeper into a blue that rivaled his eyes. The sapphire against the purpled-black of the teddy was delicious—it reminded Julian of the wormhole, bursting into color against the pinpricked black of space, shimmering with reflected light.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” Julian breathed.

Garak shifted nervously and took a small step back, leaving Julian seated on the sill. Julian was suddenly very aware of how cold it was there with his bare skin on the bulkhead and the freeze of space just on the other side. He shivered and stood.

“I think this should go to a room where there are blankets.”

“Will we be using them?”

Julian laughed. “As padding, perhaps. Ready?” He reached a hand to Garak, hoping his question was heard on all the levels he meant. Garak’s moment of almost leaving before prickled his heart in worry.

Garak looked him up and down, taking in every lean line, and Julian ducked his head from the ferocity of that gaze that _hungered_ , the sharp intelligence not in the least obscured by the lust as dark as Garak’s garters. It made Julian feel exposed in an entirely new way to see that kind of want—but he did not lower his hand.

He just managed to stop himself from exhaling the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when he felt Garak’s cool fingers wrap around his. “Ready,” said Garak in a low tone, and Julian felt a grin widen on his face as he turned quickly to kiss Garak on the nose and then pull him into the bedroom. 

“Stand just there,” Julian said as Garak reached the edge of the bed, “I want to look at you.”

“You see me quite often, Julian.”

“No, Garak, I see _part_ of you. But this?” He ran his fingers down the lines of Garak’s sides, tracing over the muscle coiled above the ridges on his hips just peeking out from the arcs of the teddy. “I do not get to see this. And it is—”

“Beautiful?”

Julian laughed. “Yes.”

“So you have said.” 

“So I will keep saying, Garak. Also ‘sexy as hell,’ ‘irresistible,’ ‘mesmerizing,’ and a few other things that I could say but I want to stop talking and start tasting every single one of these ridges.”

“ _Julian_ ,” Garak whispered, again in the long-drawn-out taste of syllables like _kanar_ dripping over his tongue. He hooked a finger under Julian’s jaw and kissed him, pulling Julian’s air into him as he licked his way into Julian’s mouth, his hands sliding down Julian’s front, fingers skimming over Julian’s ribs, thumbs dipping low—

“No, not yet,” Julian said, smiling as he grasped Garak’s wrists lightly. “You sneak, you. I said I want to enjoy this outfit.”

“Are you not?”

“I’m certainly enjoying the Cardassian in it, but I have other plans.” He kissed just under Garak’s jaw, the hollow of his throat, the teardrop in his chest, licking a swipe around the ridges framing that bright blue. He was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath from Garak; smiling, he continued down across the black lace, feeling it scratch against his skin as he splayed his hands over Garak’s hips. He kissed his way down one garter strap, taking its clip in his teeth and unclasping it, dragging the stocking down with his mouth. Garak stumbled slightly forward and Julian trailed his nails down Garak’s legs, feeling the scales on one hand and the soft sheerness of the stocking on the other. The dual sensory overload was phenomenal.

“Julian, I—I think standing for this may—may not be possible.”

Julian looked up, sitting on his heels, resting his cheek against Garak’s knee, scraping his skin against the shimmering grey edges. The memory of Garak standing in his back room earlier in the day, proud and fierce and yet worried about Julian’s reaction, sparked something in him; it felt completely natural to take control. “Lie down on the bed, then.”

Garak’s mouth opened and closed without sound and Julian almost laughed at the comic look of a speechless Garak. Giving it up, Garak shifted to the bed and sat.

“Oh, no— _lie down_ ,” Julian said, rising to his knees and pushing on Garak’s chest. Garak resisted at first before Julian tracked one finger down Garak’s central ridge that connected his _chUla_ and _chUva_ , the meridian line of a Cardassian’s torso, and his hand ghosted lightly over Garak’s _ajan_ that Julian could feel was heated and wet underneath the lace. Garak bucked against him but laid down to give that hand room to continue.

Julian kissed the bared thigh and reached down for the stocking pooled around Garak’s ankle. “Good,” he said, gently nipping at the hollow behind Garak’s knee, “stay.” He pulled the stocking the rest of the way off, alternating pecks and kisses down Garak’s foot, marveling at the scales that splayed across even the arches.

There was a lifetime’s worth to explore here. “Every inch of you is glorious,” he declared as he rose to his knees again to repeat the pattern with the other stocking.

Garak raised his head, leaning on his elbows. “Julian—”

Julian paused, lifting his head and sliding his hands up Garak’s hips to skim his fingertips along the edge of the teddy that dipped in between Garak’s thighs. “Are you going to contradict me, Mr. Garak?” he asked.

Garak had fallen back to lying flat, his hands twisting in the sheets under him as Julian’s fingertips stayed just far enough away from where he desperately wanted pressure. “I just—”

“—was going to contradict me,” Julian said, brushing his thumbs down Garak’s seam. Garak opened his legs wider and Julian grinned. “When I tell you you’re lovely,” Julian kissed an inner thigh, “you are going to accept it.”

Garak shuddered. “Or—what?”

Julian grinned as an answer crossed his mind. “Or I will tell Lwaxana that you were hoping to hear more about the history of the Holy Rings of Betazed and what she was planning to do with the clothes she ordered from you.”

Garak raised his head again, the horror in his eyes in humorous contradiction to the disarray of his hair and the cerulean spoon of his _chUfa_. “You wouldn’t.”

Rubbing his thumbs in just enough to pull a short moan out of Garak as his head fell back, Julian chuckled. “Try me.”

“You are evil.”

“You are stunning.”

Julian could feel Garak exhale and he waited for a retort, but none came. “Very good, Garak,” he purred, continuing his task of taking off the stocking and rising to crawl over the panting Cardassian. His cock dragged over the fabric and the lace texture against its tip made him shudder. “Now, I love you in this, but I would also love you to be _out_ of this.”

Garak gripped his hands and directed them underneath him, guiding him to a set of clasps at the back of the garment. Julian kissed Garak again as he undid every one, pulling the shoulders down and biting lightly at the ridges as they were revealed, stripping Garak until they were equally naked, Garak splayed on his bed like an iridescent starfish.

“You’re staring,” Garak said after a moment, his discomfort clear.

“I’m admiring,” Julian countered. “You’ve done quite the job of keeping this all hidden under layers and layers of fabric, my mysterious friend.”

“Now that you see it, what will you do?” The challenge in Garak’s voice, the antagonism in his eyes shadowed by the slightest hint of apprehension that he couldn’t fully hide, made Julian even harder than the sheer beauty of his body. This was Garak trusting him. He started forward—and checked himself.

“What would you like me to do?” Julian asked.

Garak looked confused. “My dear doctor, you seem to be the one guiding this encounter.”

“And it will not go anywhere you don’t want it to go.”

Garak studied him a moment. “What do _you_ want?”

Julian leaned forward, carefully not touching Garak but caging him within Julian’s arms all the same. He leaned his head right next to Garak’s ear and murmured, “I want to fuck you into next week.”

Garak’s legs hooked over Julian’s hips as he pulled Julian down to him, grasping his face between his grey hands. “Then by all means,” he said, kissing Julian deeply. 

Julian grinned, reaching between them to slide a hand into Garak’s slit. At the touch of his fingers, Garak’s _prUt_ slid out smoothly— _he must have been holding onto that for just the right moment_ , Julian thought in awe and lust as he took himself in hand and guided himself into Garak. He entered slow, pushing back against Garak’s insistent heels digging into his ass to pull him forward.

“ _Julian_ ,” Garak hissed in frustration.

Julian kissed him, then without warning snaked his head to the side and bit down on Garak’s neck ridge just as he pushed the rest of the way in, prompting a short whine from Garak that equaled a shout from anyone else. Julian set a rough pace, digging his nails into Garak’s back as he delved into the slippery warmth of him, swooping on each push in to rub Garak’s _prUt_ between them. Garak wrapped around him like a vine, folding Julian against him as they melded into each other and felt the heat rise within them. Julian bit into ridges, savoring scales that tasted like spiced oil and stars and _Garak_ , overwhelming him with his strength in a world of sensation.

“God, Garak,” he huffed into Garak’s neck, “I am so glad I walked in on you.”

“I— _ah_ —quite agree— _mmm_ —Julian.”

Julian reached his hands up to curl over Garak’s shoulders, tightening as he neared release. Garak slid his heels down Julian’s thighs to pull him impossibly closer, scratching down Julian’s spine and Julian came with a cry, pushing through until Garak followed shortly after.

Julian collapsed on Garak’s chest, lifting his stomach when he felt Garak’s _prUt_ begin to retract. “We should definitely do this again,” he said as he kissed Garak’s jawline lazily. 

“We should definitely clean up this mess first,” Garak answered, tracing his fingers just to the side of the shallow scrapes Julian could feel he had left on his shoulders. Neither made an immediate movement, contenting instead in each other’s warmth and textures. After some moments, Garak gently pushed against Julian, who rolled off and sat up as Garak went to retrieve cloths. Julian looked at the scattered clothing on his floor and sighed happily before getting up to gather it.

Garak returned and cleaned them both, tilting his head in approval at Julian’s collection of material. “So perhaps attempting other constructions would be worthwhile?” he asked.

Julian’s eyes glinted in arousal. “Garak, I highly encourage you to ‘attempt’ a whole lingerie line if I get to benefit from it like this.”

“I shall take that into consideration. In the meantime, I shall have to decide how to carry it inconspicuously back with me—I’m afraid putting it back on at the moment is quite out of the question.”

Julian laid a hand on Garak’s arm. “Do you have to leave now?”

“When would you prefer?”

“Tomorrow.”

“My dear, we both have work tomorrow.”

“I know,” Julian said, raising Garak’s hand and kissing him softly on the palm, “but we can sleep in the meantime. Stay. Please?”

Garak looked at him in amazement before rubbing his thumb over Julian’s cheekbone. “Perhaps tonight. But whatever shall I wear?”

Julian didn’t even try to hide the lasciviousness of his grin as he pulled them to the bed again.

**Author's Note:**

> It cracks me up no end that I claimed the smut portion of this tale (or at least the first one) because that's apparently my jam. It's my first time working with a clothing aspect, though, so it was fun thinking about the logistics. How delightful a challenge!
> 
> Also, I hope I didn't throw anyone out of the story with the consent check-ins throughout; it would seem that's become My Thing in my stories. *shrugs* There are worse calling cards.


End file.
